Mistakes
by amberdowny
Summary: Remus has made several mistakes in his life, but the biggest one was falling in love with a drunk. Contains slash and nottoographic sex.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.

A/N: This was inspired by a dream I had. The details are mushy, but the main theme got through. Let's see, warnings….SLASH, m/m. Some abusive/non-consensual relationships…and for avid puppyshippers (like me) it's a bit heartbreaking to see this lovely relationship portrayed this way. However, I'm in an angsty mood, so we get this. Besides, I've secretly harboured an alcoholic!Sirius in my mind since he was described as having a smell of "stale drink" in OotP.

In the beginning, it was wonderful. I was so in love, and he was too. I remember our first time, he was so gentle, and it was just beautiful. James and Peter were happy for us, which was a bit of a shock, but it really shouldn't have been.

Things got worse the first time he got drunk. It was June, just a week until we'd leave school forever. Sirius and I already decided to have a flat together, and we were all set to move in in the beginning of July. But the end of exams, O.W.Ls, N.E.W.Ts, and the end of school had called for a party. And some sixth years had snuck in strong alcohol, both muggle and wizard. Sirius drank quite a bit, and instead of being the happy, dancing-on-tables drunk most of us had expected, he was angry, and snapped at most everyone in the room within an hour. I thought maybe it had something to do with his family--feelings he suppressed came out when he wasn't controlling them. This realisation did nothing to alleviate my slight fear when he grabbed my hand and pulled me roughly out the portrait hole.

I followed him, nearly running to keep up, as he crossed the grounds and prodded the knot on the Whomping Willow. He dragged me down into the tunnel, a tunnel I thought I had traversed for the last time two weeks earlier. When we got into the Shack itself, he threw me down onto a bed, only a bit chewed up.

He looked at me, eyes dark with desire, and growled roughly, "Clothes off. Now."

More than a little frightened now, I quickly complied. He pulled his own clothes off and straddled my hips. Without warning, he entered, and I bit back a cry of pain. He shagged me with no regard to how I may have been feeling, and when it was over, he rolled over and immediately fell asleep, from some mixture of alcohol and being sated.

I however, was sore and nowhere near falling asleep. I could feel blood trickling down the backs of my thighs, and tears gathered in my eyes. I would never have dreamed that the impulsive, witty boy who had boldly taken on a third year in a duel in his first year would ever do that to anyone. To _me_. I couldn't believe that Sirius, who had been so gentle the three times before this could have been so brutal, so uncaring about what I was feeling. I lay awake for hours, hoping that Sirius would somehow make everything all right again.

Sometime around three, I noticed a difference in the way Sirius was sleeping. I realised that he had been passed out before, and was now really only sleeping. His arm went around me, and he nuzzled into my neck. "Mmm…Moony," he murmured, still asleep.

I leaned into him, laying my cheek against his head, wincing a little as I moved. Overcome by exhaustion, I fell asleep, finally.

I woke the next morning, still sore, and still tired. I wondered what had woken me so early, and then I heard the sounds of vomiting. I looked to my left, and saw Sirius retching over the side of the bed onto the floor. He groaned and fell back onto his pillows. I tried to sit up, but a stab of pain shot through me, and I hissed involuntarily.

Sirius looked over at me in concern. "You all right?" he asked hoarsely.

"No," I replied, speaking softly so as not to make his obvious hangover any worse. "Will you please help me sit up?"

He sat up himself, then reached over and helped me. His eyes widened as he saw the blood staining the sheets beneath me. "Oh Merlin, you're really hurt…I'm so sorry Remus. I didn't mean to…"

"It's…all right. I'll be fine. I just…" I trailed off, the hurt I had felt in the silence, not the words.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said again. "I really am…Remus…"

"I forgive you," I said, because I was sure it wouldn't happen again.

I was only too wrong. Over the next five years, Sirius got drunk with an alarming regularity. When he was drunk, he would shag me, roughly, so that I was so sore. Sometimes I would bleed, though that didn't happen often, probably because I was so used to it.

Eventually, Sirius began getting drunk during the day, not just at night, so rather than shagging me, he would hit me. He always apologized when he sobered up, and I knew that he was really a good person, he just had a problem. So I always forgave him. Even when I shouldn't have.

Like when even James noticed the bruises, and the stiff way I walked sometimes, when the full moon was still weeks off.

"Remus, are you…all right?" he asked tentatively one night, when he was over. Sirius wasn't home yet, and I had the sinking feeling he was out drinking again.

"I'm fine," I replied. "Why?"

"Well, it's just that you've had so many bruises lately…you're not being hurt, are you?" he asked.

"By who?" I said in surprise.

James shrugged. "Anyone."

"No," I answered. I was lying though my teeth. James realised it a second later as Sirius Apparated into the kitchen, stepped toward the table, tripped over the chair I was sitting in, and slapped me across the face.

My hand flew to my cheek, which was warm. I knew it was turning bright red.

James looked at us in shock. "Re--"

"Go James. Just go," I said quickly. He looked at us worriedly for a few moments, and then nodded.

"I'll be back," he said, then Disapparated away.

I turned to Sirius, who was rummaging through the refrigerator. "Sirius?" I said tentatively.

"What?" he replied. He did not growl it, or shout it. A good sign, although the slap was not.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"That pasta we had yesterday…did you save the leftovers?" Not much of a slur…that was a good sign too.

"Yes, I did," I replied. "But--"

"Then why can't I find it?" Sirius demanded. His voice rose a little. Bad sign. I decided not to tell him I had eaten it for lunch.

Instead I said, "Why don't you go to the sitting room? I'll heat up the pasta for you. You must have had a long day at work." Sirius was an Auror, and spent his days tracking Death Eater activity. And getting drunk.

He considered it for a moment. "All right. Thanks." Politeness--another good sign. He left the room.

I quickly conjured a plate of cold pasta, then dumped it into a pan and started to heat it. I couldn't tell whether that night would be a good night or a bad one. It seemed like it'd be a good one, but I couldn't remember the last night Sirius was completely sober.

When the pasta was heated, I put it back on the plate and carried into where Sirius sat, staring at the fire. He took the plate when I held it out, then asked, "What are you going to eat?"

"I already ate," I lied. "I had a sandwich." I sat in an armchair next to Sirius.

"Oh." He began to eat the pasta. I picked up the book lying nearest me and opened it to the marker. Alexandre Dumas. In French. I sighed. Sirius was the one who was fluent in French, not me. I did well enough on holiday, but there was no way I could read the _Three Musketeers_ in French. I located my copy of the book (translated) and began to read.

After perhaps five minutes, Sirius threw down his plate and slapped me across the face again. Startled, I looked up from my book

"It's cold," he snarled. "In the middle. Couldn't you at least heat it all the way through?"

My hand pressed to my cheek, I replied softly, "I'm sorry. Would you like me to make you something else?"

"No," Sirius answered shortly. He reached over to the table and picked up the French book I had so recently put down. Quietly, I left the room and returned to the kitchen, picking up Sirius' plate as I went.

James was there, sitting on the kitchen counter. "Still say you're not being hurt by anyone?"

I had formulated a lie by now. "He doesn't do that regularly. He's just drunk tonight…he's not a friendly drunk."

"I've gone drinking with him plenty of times. He seems nice enough to me."

I sighed, then pulled out my wand. "I'm sorry James. But you wouldn't understand…I love him, I don't care what he does…I know what he's really like."

James eyed my wand warily. "What are you going--"

"Obliviate!" I muttered. James' eyes went unfocussed for a moment, then he was fine again.

"See you later, Moony," he said cheerfully, then left.

I returned to the sitting room. It was nine o'clock by now. "Sirius?" I ventured.

"Mm?" he replied, engrossed in his book.

"I'm going to bed."

"_As-tu sommeil?_" he asked, probably not even realising he asked in French.

"_Oui, j'ai sommeil,_" I replied. Basic French. Are you tired? Yes, I'm tired. I left the room and went to our bedroom. I hoped I'd be asleep before Sirius came in…then we wouldn't have sex.

And I did fall asleep. I was woken three hours later, by Sirius shaking my shoulder. "Remus," he hissed.

"What?" I replied sleepily.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" I asked in confusion.

He sighed. "I know I…do things I shouldn't, when I'm drunk…I should…stop drinking, but…you should leave. You shouldn't be around me."

"I…I know that you don't mean to…despite everything, I love you."

He sighed again. "I love you too." He got into bed beside me, pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. "I don't deserve you," he murmured as he fell asleep.

Only a few weeks later, Lily and James were dead. I couldn't believe it at first--James was Sirius' best friend, how could he do that to him?

Finally, I decided that it had to be the alcohol. It turned Sirius into a different person--why couldn't it have turned him into a Death Eater as well?

"You _didn't_ deserve me," I whisper to myself, as the memories fade away, along with my home country, as I leave on a ship sailing for the mainland of Europe. "And I'll never make that mistake again."

_La fin_


End file.
